


Apology

by ThatSinga



Series: Rowvember 2020 [6]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Depression, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27425692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatSinga/pseuds/ThatSinga
Summary: Tried writing something a bit more darker and sadder for a change.
Relationships: Aisha (Saints Row)/Johnny Gat
Series: Rowvember 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995631
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	Apology

**Author's Note:**

> Tried writing something a bit more darker and sadder for a change.

Fall was creeping up on Stilwater. The leaves had turned brown and orange, and the air had gotten colder. Gone was the heatwave that had held Stilwater firmly in its grasp over the past few months, replaced by Lake Michigan's icy winds.

It was a quiet afternoon, not many people out and about. A singular figure was walking down the Quinbecca Strip, wearing a long, dark jacket and a grey trilby. The person had made their way past "Scratch That" and "Rich A. Rounds", and was now passing by a little bakery called “Somethin For Muffin”. The individual stopped as they stood in front of "Zinnia's Flowers", before deciding to enter the florist.

A bell chimed as the door to the store opened, the inside was warm and smelled of a variety of plants. An employee, presumably Zinnia, greeted the customer with a friendly voice.

"Welcome to Zinnia's Flowers, are you looking for anything specific? A custom flower arrangement perhaps?"  
The man didn't respond and just slowly walked through the store, checking the different assortment of flowers and seeds that were lined up in pots along the walls and a table to the right of the clerk's counter. Zinnia shyly went back to reading a magazine, she never knew how to handle customers that didn't respond to her, but to her delight, the guest eventually spoke up.

"Just looking for a simple bouquet of roses," he replied in a low voice, "Different colors, red, yellow, pink..." he explained.

"Certainly!" Zinnia affirmed the man as she walked out from behind her counter to collect roses of different shades to tie up into a small arrangement. Once she had collected the flowers she required, she made sure none of them were bent before bundling them up neatly. "Would you like a wrapper around them?" she asked.

"A black one, if you have any," he replied. Zinnia retrieved a black paper from underneath her counter and carefully wrapped it around the bouquet.

"Is there anything else I can help you with today?" the woman asked, at which the man shook his head, "That'll be $35, please," the store owner informed her customer who reached into his coat to retrieve his wallet. He pulled out a $50 bill and placed it on the counter, picking up his purchase with the same hand, and turning to leave the store.

"You're still getting change!" Zinnia cried after him, but he just raised his free hand to say it was alright. "Thank you, come again!" She put the money in her cash register and the man left the store.

The cold air outside was a slap in the face compared to the warm interior of the florist. He pulled up the collar of his coat and re-adjusted his scarf that hid his neck tattoos before continuing his path down Quinbecca Strip. A bit further down the road he crossed the street to reach Mourning Woods Cemetery, Stilwater's largest graveyard. He passed through the gates and walked down the road for a short distance until he reached a footpath. He followed the pedestrian way around a pond near the cemetary's entrance. The man crossed another road and followed a second path that led him to his destination. The area was mostly empty except for a handful of mourners scattered across the premises, tending to graves or just paying their respects to passed away friends and family members.

The grave looked like it did every time he visited it. It was fairly new, but he regularly checked on it to make sure no punks had vandalized it, you never knew in this city. The man knelt down in front of it, placed the flowers on the soil, and just stayed silent for a minute or two. He then ran his fingers over the tombstone's engraving, carefully trailing the name written upon it.

"Hey, Eesh," Johnny finally broke the silence. He never really knew what to say when he came here, he wasn't the best with words, and talking to a stone slab didn't make it any easier. The first time he had visited his late girlfriend's grave, he didn't say a word, and instead just crouched in front of it in disbelief. The second time he had come, he had the Boss with him, who was surprisingly supportive and helped him speak. The two of them usually visited Aisha together, but today he needed to be alone. He was at a loss for words once more, so he just started talking about what came to mind.

"The Boss and I took care of the Ronin, they won't bother us anymore." he started, but then paused, would she really want to hear about this gang stuff and revenge? Was there nothing else to him that he could talk about? "I, uh, I'm finally wearing the jacket you gave me," he tucked on his grey coat, "I like it, looks alright," he re-adjusted his glasses that had started to slide down from having his head lowered the entire time. "I'll try not to get any bullet holes in it, no promises, though," he tried to lift his own mood with a little joke, but it didn't work. He kinda wished the Boss was with him right now, so she could say a few words of her own while he would think of what to say next, but he had to be here on his own today. He had dreaded this day for the past few weeks, and with every day it drew closer, the pain in his stomach got worse.

"Happy birthday, Eesh," he finally said as his eyes started to tear up. Johnny wasn't known to be emotional, except for when he got angry, but it was a side of him he very rarely showed, preferring to keep up his tough guy persona that people feared and respected, but right now, he had no one to fool but himself. "I really wish you were here right now," he said with a weak voice, almost a whimper. He put both of his hands inside his pockets to keep them warm, his right hand clutching a small object he kept within the jacket, and the left getting a hold of a slightly bigger item.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, "I'm so fucking sorry, Aisha. I didn't mean for any of this to happen," he sobbed. Johnny still blamed himself for her death, even after the others told him it wasn't his fault. He was aware they just said it to make him less miserable, he knew he was to blame.  
"I'm sorry I brought that money to your house," he continued to apologize, "I'm sorry I didn't listen when you said it was too dangerous, I'm sorry I couldn't protect you," he paused for a moment, "I failed you," he eventually uttered. Aisha was the purest person he'd ever known, and in his mind, she didn't deserve someone like him to happen to her, she had been way too good for him. She'd probably slap him for thinking like that, but he couldn't help it, if it hadn't been for his series of fuckups, she'd still be alive. "It should be me in that grave," he admitted, "I'm always reckless and others pay the price for it, it's not fair."

He sat in silence again for a moment, just sobbing and sniffing before he pulled out the little box he had been holding in his shaking hand. Just looking at the black case caused him to feel a tightness in his chest. He hesitantly opened it and gazed at the ring that neatly sat on a white cushion. When he had been younger, he could never see himself as a husband or a family man, but after spending a long time in jail and almost getting executed, his opinion changed, the thought of marrying Aisha at some point hadn't seemed so improbable anymore. He had wanted to wait until her birthday to propose, but he lost her before he ever got the chance. He had bought the ring with his cut of the money they had stolen from Poseidon's Palace, the Boss laundered her cut with guns and cars, while Pierce probably invested in a bigger doll house. He had purchased the gold ring at "On Thin Ice", and had an engraving added to it, he had settled on a clear 1.2 carat diamond, rather than a purple gemstone as he had originally intended, since he wanted this to be independent from the Saints. The ring had cost him a fortune, and while he could have just stolen it, he wanted to properly purchase it, granted, the money he bought it with was stolen, but it was a start.

He closed the box and put it back inside his jacket, before he retrieved the item from his other pocket, an NR4. He held it in his shaky hands, observing the gun carefully. He would lie if he said he hadn't thought about it. When Aisha died, a part of him died as well. There were times when the pain was almost unbearable and merely the company of his friends kept him somewhat sane. Some days he went as far as pressing the cold barrel against his temple with the safety off. He figured the only reason he was never able to go through with it was because of Aisha herself. He himself wasn't religious, but he liked to think that wherever Eesh was, she was watching him. And if she saw him try to kill himself, she'd never forgive him. Aisha had given her life to save his, and she would kill him if he threw that away by taking his own.

Johnny put the pistol back inside of his pocket and slowly stood up. He took off his glasses to wipe away any leftover tears with his sleeve, and put the spectacles back on the bridge of his nose. It was starting to get dark, he had been here for longer than he thought. He took one more look at the grave before hesitantly turning around to leave the cemetery. As he made his way back to where he had parked his Stiletto, his phone rang. He got it out of his back pocket and answered it once he saw the name of the caller.

"'Sup?" he tried to sound as casual as possible.

"Hey, you got some time to spare?" the Boss asked her second in command.

"Sure, where you at?" He could use some company right about now, he just hoped his eyes weren't still red by the time he'd get there.

"Could you pick me up at the HQ?" she wanted to know.

"Sure, be there in 20," he assured her as he ended the call.

He wore a slight smile on his face as he approached his vehicle, life was worth living after all, he just had to take it one day at a time.


End file.
